


To Remember How to Feel Like I Did

by agesofaquarius



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A Series of Unfortunate Events for Our Dear Commander, F/M, Kisses, Lyrium Withdrawal, Minor Cadash/Bull, Modern AU, Past Surana/Cullen, Schizophrenia, Short Story, Two Inquisitors AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agesofaquarius/pseuds/agesofaquarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four times the Commander almost kissed the Inquisitor, and the one time she kissed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paper Shield and Wooden Sword

**Author's Note:**

> For Katy.

**1**

 

The attack on Haven had been moroseful, reminding them that the battle was far from over. Yet here their Heralds were, guiding them through snow and frost, cutting through the mountains like they were butter and they were a hot knife. There were whispers that they were simply following the apostate elf, _Solas_ , _he had to remind himself_ , as he told them where to go. Yet still, Cullen held faith. He would always hold faith. 

Cadash was brunt, harsh, like a rusted blade in the belly of a street fight.

But not Trevelyan. 

Trevelyan was... refreshing. Like a glass of cold water on a hot summer's day. Her smile and sweet voice. 

_But she's a mage, Templar! She must be controlled, else she become an abomination! Abomination!_

He shook out his head to clear it of the screeching voice that had plagued his mind the week he swore off lyrium. _Now she was the broken glass of acid, burning at his lips and numbing his throat with liquid fire._

Cullen sighed as he ran a gloved hand through his hair, the snowflakes melting under his touch. 

She looked back, speaking softly to the dwarf at her side. Her eyes had changed since she returned from Redcliffe. The dwarf's as well, but the former Carta member and he were far from friends. Elsie on the other hand... 

_No. She is a Trevelyan. She is a Lady and will be treated as such. Do not filthy her name with your commoner tongue._

Cullen shook away the thoughts again, and looked up. She was watching him from atop her horse (the same horse he had once ridden before handing the mare over; he had marched legions and could march a few more without batting an eye), those bright eyes as blue as the sky. Her hair was almost white from the mixturely of snowflakes and frost that had accumulated, her shoulders also holding a small dusting of the substance. But he could still see the silver strands underneath, and the dark grays that sprouted from the roots. He always wondered how it became that color and she was so young. A spell gone wrong? Early aging? 

He wanted to touch it. 

The dwarf at her side pulled her eyes away from him, and it was then he realized he had been holding his breath. Cassandra came to his side, spoke as soft as the falling snow to him, something that he didn't know she was capable of, suggesting the open role of leadership. 

"Who has been making the decisions as of late, Commander?"

"They have."

"And who better to lead us than them?"

The Inquisition was not a military force nor a spy network nor a group of liasons and diplomats. It was all of them, and much, much more. They would make it official once they reached their destination, until then, they could only follow the path the two cut through the mountain. 

It was that night after they made camp; he had made a quick rounds with the soldiers. All were warm and had something to eat, the guards rotation matters were settled, and he sat at his own fire with a bowl of stew in hand and his cloak heavy on his weary shoulders. It was a fairly quiet night, the winds and the crackle of the fires urging everyone into their dreams. 

"Commander?" He looked up from his hands, staring at the pale, freckled face of Trevelyan. She smiled softly at him. "May I?" She motioned to the seat beside him. 

"Oh, yes, of course." He moved slightly, not to be _too_  close, and motioned for her to sit. She nodded took the seat, Cullen just then noticing the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders. Her breath came out in small white puffs between two pink lips, lips he couldn't help but stare at.

She noticed and the freckles lit up with a fresh blush the same color as those lips.

"Commander?" she said softly, and he shook himself from his stupor. 

"I apologize, my lady," he said, looking away and down at his stew, fingers a mixture of pale blue and lively red from the contrast of cold and warmth. And then her hand, _oh, Maker, they're beautiful and soft_ , come into view. He looks up again; she has moved closer. Those small puffs of air come a little faster. 

"It's alright, commander," she says, smiling.

"Please, call me Cullen," he tells her, and her smile pulls at her freckles and makes them dance. Her nose scrunches, _Maker, that is the cutest thing he's ever seen._

"Cullen," she says with a nod, and the syllables roll off her tongue like warm chocolate melting from her mouth into his. 

_Do not give her that power over you, Templar! She is a desire demon, she will corrupt you and taint you! Abomination! Abomination!_

"Cullen?"

He opened his eyes, she was so close, lip sneaking past those two lips to wet them against the cold. He leans closer, so close the white puffs warm his dry lips, and his own tongue presses to wet them, ready for her soft touch. All the flirting, the flattery, it had not gone unnoticed, but she was so much more to them all, to _him_. He could not sully her with his filth. So close...

"Commander! We have a situation!" 

Cullen jumped from his seat, spilling the stew into the fire and knocking out half the flame. He stumbled over words, apologizing to Trevelyan and meeting his soldier half way. He barely understood what the man was saying. Wolves? In the vicinity? Send out the hunters, they could use the pelts, don't get too close. The commander looked back at the fire, but Elsie was gone, all that was felt were their footsteps slowly being covered by more snowflakes. 


	2. Cardboard Walls

**2**

 

Skyhold was a miracle. It only furthered the belief among the people that the Heralds truly were went by Andraste. And then the Heralds became the Inquisitors, the two sides of the same coin that flipped and decided the fate of the world.

Cadash had calmed, yet she was still her crass self. Trevelyan had matured, whether better or worse Cullen could not make a correct assessment on just yet. But the Inquisition was regrouping, gaining more attention from the press and garnering more funds to rebuild. Friends of friends were contacted, favors were cashed in, and every resource was almost ran dry as they picked themselves back up.

Cullen had been wandering the grounds for some while after breakfast, trying to clear his thoughts and think of attack plans. They were still trying to receive word on Corypheus' new location, anything to give them the upper hand, but the darkspawn magister was nowhere to be heard of and it worried the commander. Almost two months had passed, the Inquisitors going back Thedas to gather more help and close rifts.

It would be much easier if they could split up, cover more ground in half the time, but the anchor would not let them close rifts if there was just one of them. They both had to work together, one just as important as the other.

_But not you, Templar. You are not important. You could die now and no one would miss you. They would replace you in seconds, praise your death like they praise your Maker. Go pray to your Maker, Templar, beg him to end your miserable life before the Abomination takes over._

He crashed against the stone pillar in the garden, head in hands. The voices had gotten worse since coming to Skyhold. The old magic in the stones was creating friction with the lyrium still in his blood. Three years, going on four now, and yet still he was having trouble controlling himself.

 He had warned Cassandra this would happen, but she was persistent and he would take any excuse to leave the Order and move on to something much better, especially after the mess that was Kirkwall.

"Commander! Are you just going to stand there and mope or can I interest you in a game?"

 Cullen looked up, the neck of his shirt soaked in sweat. He pushed himself away from the pillar and walked closer to the gazebo in the middle of the garden, Dorian lounging in one of the chairs placed around a small table and a chess board set out with chess pieces in their respectful posts.

 "Dorian?" he says, wiping the sweat from his brow. The mage raised a manicured brown and motioned to the open seat across from him.

"My, my, commander. You look as if you were just running from a hoard of darkspawn! Please, do take a seat. Should I fetch you some water?"

 Cullen did take the seat, feeling slightly lightheaded now that the voices had finally stopped. "No, no, I'm fine, Dorian. Just a quick rest. It's very, ah, hot here."

 "We're in the _mountains_ , Cullen."

 The commander bypassed the statement. "I must get to the war room. The Inquisitors should be returning today and I must get battle plans ready."

 "The Inquisitors, hm?" The Tevinter hums something to himself, almost as if thinking over a particularly devilish thought, before moving a pawn on the chest board. "Play a game while you rest?"

 Cullen looked at the man. "You play chess?" He moved the chair closer, resting his elbows on the table. He looked over the board and moved his own piece. "You should know that the first rule is white goes first."

 "Oops, look at me being forgetful. I shall remember next time," Dorian prattled, making Cullen shake his head and watch as the man looked for his next move.

 It was obvious within the first three moves that Dorian was cheating, and he wasn't very good at it either. Cullen moved his pieces lazily, holding a poker face that could rival Josephine's, and took Dorian's pieces one after the other.

 "I do believe you are _giving_ me your King, commander," Dorian chided, and Cullen just smirked. That's what he wanted Dorian to think.

 "Gloat all you like, Dorian, but I do believe I have this one."

 "Are you _sassing_ me, Cullen?" Dorian asked, smirking as well. "I didn't know you had in you!"

 "Why do I even..." Cullen sighed, moving his knight. He would have the game in one more move, if only Dorian would hurry up and... The commander looked up to see what was taking Dorian so long and he found Trevelyan walking toward them.

"Inquisitor!" He exclaimed, stumbling to stand from his chair. If she was back already, that would mean hours had passed and he needed to get to the war room to prepare. How many games had they played?

"Leaving are you?" Dorian says with a smug look, steepling his fingers together as he sat back in his chair. "Does this mean I win?"

Cullen glared and slowly sat back down, waiting for Dorian to take his last turn.

"I didn't mean to interrupt, are you two playing nice?" Trevelyan asked, moving her braided silver hair from one shoulder to the other. Dorian chuckled.

 "I'm always nice," the Tevinter replied and it took all Cullen had in him not to mention the cheating. Dorian turned back to Cullen. "Commander, you need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You'll feel much better in the end." He moved a bishop, giving Cullen the perfect opening for his knight and Dorian's king.

 "Really?" Cullen says, trying not to betray himself with his voice. However, Dorian caught on to the smugness. "Because I just won and I feel fine." He moved the knight into place, the king trapped . "Checkmate."

 Cullen chuckled to himself and leaned into his chair to stretch out his back. He took a glance at Trevelyan, who was looking curiously at their game, before looking back at Dorian. The mage looked over the board before standing from his chair.

 "Don't get smug. There will be no living with you." Dorian walked past the Inquisitor, giving her a small wink that Cullen did not see.

 Cullen let out a hearty chuckle at that, and began to reset the board. "I should return to my duties as well, there are reports to be read and delivered..." He trailed off, looking up at Trevelyan. "Unless you would care for a game?"

 "I want to be white," she said simply, taking Dorian's seat. Culllen nodded and flipped the board around, she taking the white just as requested. He smiled at the thought of Mia; she was always white as well.

 "As a child, I played with my sister. She would get this stuck-up grin whenever she won, which was all the time."

 "The same grin you just had?" she shot back, and it surprised Cullen. Most of their talks were professional, save for a few that slipped in when she was flirting or he couldn't help but pine after her. He did not speak and instead smiled in answer.

 "My brother and I practiced for weeks," he continued, placing pieces on the board. "The look on her face when I finally won." He sighed to himself. "Between serving with the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if she still plays."

 Probably, although Branson and Rosalie were never much of a challenge.

 "You have siblings?" She asked, and he nodded.

 "Two sisters and a brother."

 "Where are they now?" She moved her first piece.

 "They moved to South Reach after the Blight." Or so he had last heard. "I do not call as often as I should."

He moved his piece and she smiled at him when he looked up from the board.

 "You should keep in practice for the next time that you see your sister."

 Cullen took it as a challenge, but after the first ten minutes of them shuffling around pieces, he became aware that she was trying to let him win. Mia had tried this tactic before; got him smug and hotheaded before crushing him in two easy plays, but when he left a bishop out for easy pickings, she completely ignored it. This wasn't going to work because he was trying to have her win, to praise her and get on her better side. Maybe ask her for a walk of the battlements later, after they debriefed from their journey to the Fallow Mire.

 The game went on for at least an hour, each taking their time on moving pieces and slowly picking off pawns, saving the larger pieces for later. Cullen found the action sentimental, but it would not help him to win.

 "This may be the longest we've not talked about the Inquisition, or any related matters." He fidgeted in his chair, repositioning to find a more comfortable spot in the chair. He smiled at her. "To be honest, I appreciate the distraction."

 This was also the longest he had been around her and not heard the dreaded voices in his head. Not even whispers.

 Trevelyan smiled shyly. "We should do this more often," she suggested and he held his breath. "You know, spend more time together."

 Did she just say that? His heart must have stopped because he didn't feel alive. "I would like that." His brain was on autopilot, mouth moving but he wasn't sure of the words coming out. Did she really just say that?

 "Me too."

_She really just said that._

 "You said that," he whispered, and she smiled at him. "We should... finish the game. My turn, right?"

 He went to reach to move his knight and accidentally knocked over his king.

 They were quiet, Cullen trying to gauge her reaction.

 "It seems you've won," he finally said softly, moving to pick the piece back up and slowly placed pieces back on the board. She made a small noise.

 "It would seem so."

 Once the pieces were back on the board, he met her eyes. They looked knowingly at him. She knew what he had done. "Fancy another game?" he asked her and she nodded without hesitation.

 "Would you be interested in... raising the stakes?" she asked, words sounding less confident than she had hoped but he found it endearing.

"What did you have in mind, Inquisitor?"

 She gave him a look. "What have I told you about that?"

 He chuckled. "Forgive me. What did you have in mind, _Elsie_?"

 Elsie paused for a moment, still not use to the way he said her name with his Ferelden accent. The syllables were more drawn out, not as quick and sharp like the Free Marchers. It was if he took pleasure in saying her name, tasting the letters in his mouth like he was sampling fine wine, swishing them around in his mouth until the taste fizzled away into warmth in his belly.

"If I win, you have to do whatever I say."

  _Whatever she said. Kiss her. Kiss her lips, her neck, between her breasts, down her belly, between those milky thighs that would grip him like a horse-_

 "I am already at your beck and call, my Lady."

 She paused again, blue eyes wide at his small smirk. Her eyes followed the slash of his scarred lip, watching as it tugged into his cheek.

 "And if you win?" she asks, her smile turning flirtatious and her eyelashes almost brush against her cheeks her eyes get so low. Her lip is tugged between her teeth and it takes everything in him not to make a sound.

 "I haven't decided yet," he tells her, and the smirk digs deeper into his cheek. Her tongue clicks against her teeth.

 "May the best player win."

 And win he did.

 He took her queen in the first four moves, something she had not expected, and by the sixth turn her King was in check and her only move to save her was losing a rook. Her last rook. Her move took her a little longer, fingertips just a hairswidth away from touching the pieces. He had reminded her countless times that the one she touched she had to move.

 When she finally moved the rook, he captured it with his pawn, King in check again. She moved her knight, giving him room to sneak in with his Queen.

"And this one is mine."

 She huffed in annoyance but took the defeat.

 "It seems luck to your favor today. What shall be your prize, commander?"

 His ego burst full whenever she called him that, even though he insisted on being just Cullen if she was just Elsie. "I still haven't decided yet."

 She bit her lip again, eyes falling to her lap where her hands were busy playing with something. He hard a soft vibration. A phone? Was she texting someone?

 "I did not mean to hold you up if you're needed elsewhere," Cullen said softly, eyes busy on the board as he placed the pieces back for the next player.

"Oh no!" Elsie said quickly, hands moving out of her lap. "I'm sorry, it's just- uh- Gigi, she's um..." Her face flushed bright red, and she quickly covered her eyes with her hands. "She's giving me pointers."

 "Pointers?" he asked, before he realized what she meant. "Oh."

"Yeah." Elsie looked away, hands still on her bright cheeks.

"Elsie," he said softly after a moment, leaning over the small table to take one of the hands from her cheeks. His eyes fell to those pink lips that pouted at her embarrassment. Maker he wanted to kiss her more than anything now. "I think I know what I want."

Her blue eyes met hers and suddenly it was as if the sky had never been bluer and the leaves never greener. As he leaned closer, knocking some of the pieces on the board over with his coat, and she sat up, eyes flashing between his and his lips.

So close. He could smell her shampoo and he wanted to soak in it.

_So close..._

There was a yell and a loud crash to follow, Cullen pulled away to step in front of Elsie and reach for his sword. It was back in his quarters, something he wasn't expecting, and took a quick observation of the gardens. There was a broken bush, two legs sticking out of it, and from one of the spare room windows overlooking the gardens, was Cadash and The Iron Bull. Cullen groaned, knowing that the person in the bush was more likely than not Sera.

"Maker, forbid!" he huffed, turning to Elsie but she had escaped her chair and run off back to the main hall. He looked up at the two in the window, Sera now climbing from the bush. Cadash punched at Bull's arm, the Qunari laughing as Sera yelled up at him and plucked leaves from her hair.


End file.
